Garden in Northern France

I went to Sericourt, a garden in Pas de Calais yesterday.  It was about a 90 minute drive west on a mostly cloudy day, but I drove through tons of pretty little villages filled with roses and window boxes.  No pictures until I got out of the car in Sericourt...




I parked in a barn in front of the place and paid 10 euro for entrance and a really detailed map, with an explanation card in English.

   


















There were all sorts of paths leading from garden to woods, to grasses...


) 
I'd love to figure out how to make these paths in Richmond.  They seem to absorb water well and don't spread stones all over.






The grove above was inspired by the Terra Cotta Warriors!



The curves of this path are framed with soft Chamaecyparis




An inside view of long path between two rows of Thuja.  Below is a side view of this row- you can see it keeps going and going and going to the right.












 
These were listed as "bomb craters" in the guide



Another cool path in the trees.

These topiary were inspired by African masks.  I'm sure Scott can do this to our front yard!





See the "door" in the red hedge?




This is what the hedge door opens up to   Beautiful HUGE arbor of climbing roses.  Wonderful smell and almost deafening buzz of happy bees.



Looking up




More surprises around every corner




I am sure Scott can carve this one out of something in our yard:



Or if that's too hard he can just carve me this out of stone  and I'll be happy.



Happy gardening,

Heidi

Things in France we don't see so much in RVA

My "readers" asked for more pictures.  Ok, it was only one reader, Louisa W, and she's a friend.  Hi Louisa!  Everyone else I know seems to be following Bobby :)

Scott and I have been talking about the amount of public art we encounter everywhere we go.  The park behind our house currently has some Cristo-like installations. This weekend we went for a walk there  and suddenly noticed this interesting spider web like thing stretched across the water:

It was entitled "crise" 

And a little further on, we find "The Titanic"

Below, in the town of Arras, still in the category of what we don't see much in at home:

                                    Giants are really big here in Northern France.  ;)

Animals are much more accessible around here as well.  There are petting zoos everywhere, often in garden stores.  We see lots of donkeys and horses too. Not to mention the roosters and geese that roam our street.

Cute chevre!

One of my favorite parts of our Saturday excursions is our leisurely lunches.  Below, Bobby and Scott having a discussion in a square in Arras.  The building in the background has the tourist office, the belfry, the entrance to the underground quarries, and the giants.   This is one of my favorite squares in Northern France because there are no cars.



OK, more of what we see here a lot in France-broken stuff.  We will leave a recycle bin's worth of glasses we have broken.  I would guess 20.    Is the glass more delicate here?  Je ne sais pas.  Also DARNED CLOTHESPINS! They spontaneously burst apart when I come near.





Speaking of broken things ...  I tripped on a sidewalk while jogging last Sunday.  The bang when my head hit the pavement was so loud I grabbed for my phone to call Scott because I was sure I'd fall unconscious or at least have the french knocked out of me




Oddly,  my head doesn't even hurt, but of course I get a lot of sympathy.  And let me tell you,  I   need this because I also cracked some ribs, and they REALLY hurt.   Coughing, sneezing, getting out of bed, putting on a seatbelt, yelling at Bobby, all are excruciating.

So the other day I googled "how to prevent sneezing with broken ribs" and discovered an entire community of people with injured ribs who, like me,  are trying to figure out how to stop a sneeze. One guy commented "I'd rather have my [private parts] stomped on, than sneeze again."  


OK I am going to post some more pictures in another post.  This one seems long.

 Au revoir

Bisous, Beffroi and Boves

Most things I was worried about in regard to living in France have turned out just fine.

Living in much smaller quarters then we are used to has been mostly good.  We can always hear what the kids are playing, and it's less annoying than we expected.  Except when they end up wrestling and someone, usually A, is yelling "get off, get off!"  In fact, it's kind of fun to eavesdrop.  I love how closely their play reflects what is going on around us.  Right now Amelia is calling for "more bandages" because their stuffed animals were caught in a  lightning storm.   Last week, the "stuffies" were taking SOLs.  (I had just made the kids take a practice test online.)  There are also Stuffie campaigns,  primaries,  peace treaties, and attacks on ISIS.

Our  unheated toilet room (on a different floor from the bedrooms) has also worked just fine. As Scott pointed out, no one wants to linger in there, so there is rarely a line.   The thing I miss most about our house is our patio in the summer and fireplace in the winter.  Meaning being able to have a glass of wine and a conversation away from the kids during the pre-dinner "screentime/martini-time."   We have gone outside a few times but as I may have mentioned before, it ALWAYS rainy and cool here.


Back to expectations: A silly thing I worried about, as we anticipated our move here, was the custom of kissing on the cheek (bisous).  I worried that I wouldn't know whom to kiss, but I  figured that I wouldn't get to know anyone well enough to face this situation.

Reality is much simpler.  You kiss everybody.  Yes, everybody.  At the PTA conversation group, 15 to 20 people of various nationalities meet at someone's home each week.  As each person arrives, he or she goes around the room and greets every single person with 2 quick bisous, one to each side of the face. No issues at all of whom to kiss- even if you haven't met them before.  Simple.

In fact the only awkward times are when I've been with people that you can tell would kiss you hello but they are awkwardly holding back because they know you are American.

What most surprises me is to see co-workers greeting each other with bisous as they change shifts.  I've seen this at the grocery and at the train ticket office.  It kind of makes sense, "Yay I am so excited to get off work I am going to kiss you!"  And they all do it without fail.  Scott says his co-workers don't kiss hello at the lab where he works, but each person greets everyone as they come in. And as they enter the communal lunch room, everyone, without fail, says "bon appétit!"

I had hoped to learn more french than I have.  As I've said, I turn into a quivering bowl of mousse at the idea of answering the door, or calling a repairman, or rsvping by phone.  I usually start with "Je suis desolé, mon francais est mauvais" which works pretty well.  Often the second I say "bonjour" the person will launch into english.  This actually hurts my feelings if I am trying, but if I am brave. or annoyed I will just continue speaking in my mauvais french as they go on in their usually perfect english.

Now of course the other possible reaction, less insulting but with worse consequence is when the person assumes I understand everything they are saying and starts rattling away in french.  For example, last week I went to to the nearby town of Arras and I asked for a ticket to tour a belfry. Most towns in our area of Northern France and Belgium have Belfry, or beffroi, towers with bells that were designed to protect the town.  You can often climb these, when they aren't closed for lunch.  (Bonus points for anyone who remembers why Arras was in the news last year-think american heros.)



Anyway I ended up with a ticket to the belfry, and a tour of "les boves."  While  I understood that I was supposed to go see the belfry and then meet the the guide in 10 minutes, I had no idea what "boves" were, or whether I wanted to see them, let alone tour them.   I hurried up the belfry and snapped a few pictures.

A view from Arras belfry.  

Then I got out my phone and and frantically and unsuccessfully tried to  translate "bove." No luck.   So I headed down and eventually caught up with the group.  As I heard the guide warn everyone to watch their heads,   I learned we were exploring quarries beneath the city, dug out in the 17th-19th centuries and used in the World War I for a hospital and a secret route to the front.

The boves beneath the city of Arras.  Those are not my children!

This is   the beffroi in Douai.  Jolie, n'est-ce pas?

 I plan to head back with Scott and the kids- it was a fascinating tour.